


Closeface

by myeyesblurry



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Not Beta Read, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myeyesblurry/pseuds/myeyesblurry
Summary: She was all he could see, all he could think about, she put claim over him for the rest of his life. He could never escape this.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy/The Handler (Umbrella Academy)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Closeface

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FiveHargreevesNeedsAHug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveHargreevesNeedsAHug/gifts).



> To my friend who likes hurting Five, this is for you buddy.

He made his way home, stumbling and twitching the whole way. Walking with jello legs and jolts of after shakes of this disaster straight to his core with every step. He didn’t think anything could affect him this much, he just needed to get away from _her_.   
  
Cringing away from anyone coming too close, caught between staring at the ground in shame or staring down strangers from paranoia, never before feeling this confused and his reaction.   
  
He always felt on edge, but this somehow made everything worse. Every time he closes his eyes he can see _her_ , it’s all he can see, she’s as big as he can see and she straddles his small form.   
  
He barely makes it up the stairs to their home, each stair feels like a mountain. He feels exhausted and completely awake all at once. He feels like he could vibrate out of his skin while also feeling like he could collapse and stay that way forever.    
  
_ He finds he’d like that. _   
  
Sliding into the house, Allison was standing there waiting for him. He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He didn’t realize he’d feel this way when he saw her again, he realized he didn’t want to see anyone. Maybe ever. He felt like just standing in front of her could taint him with this feeling.   
  
“Five, what’s going on? Are you okay, you look terrible!” He can hear her voice full of worry and concern and he doesn’t want it, doesn’t need it, can’t bear to even hear it.   
  
See her, hear her, so perfect and pure it seems like while he feels so dirty and disgusting. He’s never felt so dirty before, being in the apocalypse for 45 years and he wishes he could go back to it in this moment.   
  
He tries to slip past her, “Shower,” he murmurs and she grabs his shoulder to stop him.   
  
Lightning pain shoots through his whole body as he jerks away, hissing at her. Her gentle touch hurts, just like hers did.

_ Why did it hurt? Why does  _ he _ hurt? _   
  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”   
  
“Don’t, you didn’t. I just want to be alone.” Five snaps at her, anger dripping in his voice. He can also feel his own voice tremble. He’s upset, he’s hurt, he wants to be alone, he wants a hug. Mother’s hugs always made him feel better.   
  
Allison opens her mouth to speak again and Five sprints down the hall into the bathroom.   
  
Slamming the door behind him, he leans against the door and slides down it slowly. He closes his eyes and tries to breath, calm himself down.   
  
_ “I could just eat you up” _ _   
_ _   
_ His eyes snap open at the memory. The feeling of her claws gently scratching down his chin and neck, resting at the collar. Slowly moving to undo his tie.   
  
He shakes his head and holds it, squeezing his head and groaning. He wants it to stop, he needs it to stop.   
  
After a few moments, he straightens, opens the curtain and turns the shower on. He stands there staring at it, numbly for a few minutes. He reaches in and even while the water is cold, it feels like it’s burning his skin. He can’t tell if he’s hot or cold, he feels uncomfortable.   
  
He feels uncomfortable in his clothes, he moves his hands to take the clothes off.   
  
His hands hover over the buttons, hesitating. He doesn’t want to remove the clothes. He feels gross in them, but the idea of being naked, being vulnerable again is overwhelming. He looks down and kicks his shoes off.   
  
He opens the curtain more, and steps in. The water hitting his clothes doesn’t hurt as much as his bare skin. He closes the curtain behind him and lets the water soak through his clothes. Mother wouldn’t understand why he was soiling his clothes like this, but they already feel ruined. She’s not around, anyway.   
  
He slowly moved to remove his shorts. Sliding them down slowly. She removed his vest and shirt first, so he had to remove his shorts first. The water running down his legs started to feel better almost. It didn’t burn as much anymore, his body becoming numb to the sensation.   
  


He tries to focus on the water, remembering how it feels.   
  
_ He pretends he’s somewhere else. Sitting at the table with his siblings. Eating a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. Drinking a coffee. A good one, or a bad one, he would prefer the shitteist of coffees right now if he was home, safe. _ _   
_ _   
_ He starts removing his vest next. Feeling the water washing away the shame. Hoping, the water washes away the shame.   
  
_ He can feel his clothes being removed, and hear the words being whispered in his ears. He would drink the shittiest coffee in the world for the rest of his life if it meant this wasn’t happening. If he was anywhere else. _ _   
_ _   
_ He keeps his eyes open, staring at his crumpled clothes on the floor, sitting over the drain. He feels the water slowly pooling around his feet.   
  
_ He’s been through worse. He can handle this. He will see his family again after this. She’ll be done with him, he’ll be left alone, his family will be left alone. They don’t need to know, he wishes he could forget this. _ _   
_ _   
_ The water’s at his ankles.   
  
_ He feels her lips at his neck, he feels her soft, delicate hand on him. Her breath is hot on his neck and he feels sick. He feels like he could throw up all the damage she’s doing to him. _ _   
_ _   
_ The water’s at his calves, he doubles over and vomits. He feels so dizzy, he feels hot, even though the water’s run cold. He feels sick still, his stomach twisting in ways he thinks will always twist.   
  
He looks down and kicks his clothes off the drain. The water starts running down the drain and he turns the shower off.   
  
Stepping out of the shower he can see a new set of clothes on the toilet seat. Allison must have brought them.   
  
He turns back to the tub and reaches down, grabbing the soaked clothes. He rubs the rest of the vomit up with the clothes, and drops them in the trash next to the toilet. He doesn’t want to see the clothes again.   
  
He looks at the clothes Allison brought, they’re not the same. They look soft and comfortable. He doesn’t deserve them.   
  
Holding the clothes in front of himself in the mirror, he stares into his eyes. He takes in his body. The body she liked, the body she used and touched how she wanted to. The body she moved around and caressed. The body that betrayed him and reacted to what she was doing.   
  
His skin feels hot again, he feels the twisting in his stomach.   
  
He knows his body reacts to those things, he’s gone through puberty, he’s had downtime in his life, he’s had urges. Laying side-by-side with Dolores, his clumsy, rough calloused hands hurt less than the Handler’s soft, delicate touches.   
  
He also knows he didn’t want what the Handler did to him.   
  
He feels like he can’t breath, he feels like he’s suffocating. There’s a knock on the door and a worried voice.   
  
“Five, do you need help? I can hear you hyperventilating, you aren’t okay. I’m worried.”   
  
It’s Allison again. Maybe if he tells her, the feeling will go away. Maybe if he tells her, she’ll make sure the Handler never touches him again. Maybe if he tells her, she’ll comfort him. Tell him it’s not his fault.   
  
_ But isn’t it? _   
  
He breaths deep to catch his breath, “Hang on… Stay there” he asks and starts slipping into his clothes numbly. It almost feels as good as the last time he shuffled into his clothes. He looks back at himself in the mirror, he looks scared still. He looks tired. He feels tired. Really, really tired.   
  
He slowly opens the door and Allison is standing there, looking worried. She has every right to be worried.   
  
He breaths in and out.   
  
“Allison… I… have something to tell you.”


End file.
